


A Tribute to Keith's Emotional Ineptitude (and Lance's Laugh)

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Possessive Keith (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith tries not to let it show, but he feels close to bursting at the seams.Because Lance is laughing again.Keith can’t look at him when he’s like this._____________________________________________Or: Not everyone copes in healthy ways. Reigning in his temper is hard, but for Lance, Keith will try anything.Or: Keith pines hard and Lance is oblivious.





	1. 1

Keith tries not to let it show, but he feels close to bursting at the seams.

Because Lance is laughing again. Loud, obnoxious, irritating laughs that hiccup or hitch spontaneously. Lance’s cheekbones are awash in pink, contrasting the rest of his soft-looking skin as he doubles over, still making those awful noises. And Keith can’t look at him when he’s like this.

Stomach jolting violently, Keith concentrates on evening his breathing.

These feelings were not new in the slightest, but he thought he had a tighter control on it. They had begun as small tickles in his belly whenever Lance gave him a genuine smile, like the one where he called them a good team before passing out. Then started the tightenings in his chest at the winks Lance gave him whenever their eyes caught during battle. What Keith hated the most was the heat he felt curling down his stomach whenever Lance threw a careless arm around his shoulders, talking his ears off about something or another as they made their way through the castle after a training session.

But Keith had controlled those spurts of fondness. He cut off any warmth those memories caused before they grew to anything more dangerous. 

Guess not, he thinks, only a bit hysterically. No longer able to focus on the holographic screen that is playing some old Altean drama, Keith pulls out his blade and grit stone and attempts to sharpen. Some flakes of rust fall onto the couch, and he flicks them onto the floor so to not annoy Coran.

Lance’s laughter is spreading warmth into his stomach, radiating outwards to the corners of his body. He has the type of laugh that is really contagious. Usually Keith would be cracking a smile at this point, but the quenching in his stomach makes him want to vomit.

He chances a glimpse at the boy causing his inner turmoil. Lance is still huddled near Hunk, a collection of ventilation tools scattered around them like a protection rune. They were supposed to be taking inventory, but seemed too preoccupied with each other to finish the task, bursting into chortles every now and then. 

Keith had finished his inventory of the weapons closet hours earlier, and after a quick training session alone, he had decided to give the Altean dramas that Allura and Coran recommended him a shot.

But then he had found Hunk and Lance, of all people, occupying the room. Before Keith could raise a foot to step back out the door, Lance was ushering him in with a bright grin, promising that he and Hunk would be done soon and to not let their working here block Keith from enjoying popular culture, adding a drama suggestion that went straight through his ears. 

He was giving Keith such a wide smile, that he felt slightly disoriented. 

Keith had coughed, crossed his arms. “Okay.”

But that must have been wrong, because Lance’s face faltered for a split second.

“Don’t get too excited,” Lance joked, winking like Keith understood what that means, before he turned back to Hunk and resumed their conversation.

Even that dismissal tore something in his chest.

So Keith tried to get into the drama, but the whispering and giggling from the side of the room set him on edge.

He tried not to stare.

But then Hunk had leaned into Lance’s ear and said something that caused him to burst into that laughter that hammered its way into Keith’s mind, chipping away at any other thoughts until nothing was left but Lance.

And here Keith was.

Pathetic.

Gritting his teeth, Keith reminds himself that Lance is an idiot. All that laughing was likely a result of being knocked brainless one too many times as a child. 

But he can’t keep him gut from twisting when Hunk rests his hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance doesn’t even notice, snickering so hard himself that Keith’s wonders hopes that he’ll fall flat on his face soon. 

A touch on his shoulder jolts him to the right, where Shiro stands with eyebrows drawn down in concern. “Are you alright?”

It’s embarrassing that he hadn’t heard Shiro approach. Was he not a skilled warrior who depended on his senses to protect him in battle?

“I’m fine,” Keith said, trying to keep his tone neutral. He never wanted to be this way. He never asked for any of this. But the world seemed to hate him. Because Lance was hiding his face in Hunk’s shoulder now, maybe to smother his embarrassing high pitched giggles.

Or maybe it was more embarrassing the way Keith reacted to those sounds.

“Oh,” Shiro lets out then. “I see.”

Body tensing, Keith growls out. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Shiro sounds like he’s trying to comfort a wild animal. “It is okay, Keith. Fighting a war does not immune us to having normal emotions.”

“You don’t understand,” Keith spit out. Shiro thought he was bothered by Lance’s outgoing behavior. Shiro thought Lance purposely prodded at Keith til he blew up, when in reality Keith sought out Lance, knowing that he would feel overwhelmed and likely riled up by the proximity. It wasn’t fair to Lance to let Shiro keep thinking that, but the excuse was too convenient to lose. If  Shiro knew the truth of Keith’s emotions, he would never look at Keith the same way.

“Then explain it to me,” Shiro responds, maturely.

“We’re not doing this.” Keith shoves his dagger and sharpening stone back into place, deciding to ignore the way that Shiro flinched slightly at the movement. 

When he rises from the couch, he must have pushed his weight against it, because the wedge screeches loud enough to capture Hunk and Lance’s attention.

He doesn’t understand what the looks on their faces mean, but it makes his hackles rise in defensiveness.

“What are you looking at?” Keith snaps, far harsher than he meant.

Lance jumps slightly at the noise before staring down at something in his lap, and Keith wants to hit himself for it. Hunk’s mouths falls open.

Flustered and irritated at how things are developing, Keith tries to just get out. But his arm accidentally connects with something on a nearby table, sending it falling and shattering against the hard floor.

“Why would someone put that there?” He shouts, gripping his head. Now Coran would give him an earful for causing a mess, something he was trying to avoid in the first place. He can’t help but feel that this is Lance’s fault.

He hates how Shiro is raising both hands up as if to pacify him. “I’m sure you didn’t. It’s alright if you’re not feeling great right now. We all have bad days Keith.”

He’s shaking his head. “That’s not what this is,” slips out of his mouth.

This is when Lance unhelpfully chirps in. His stupid lips are curled in a slight pout and Keith sees him as nothing but a pest, a leech that has turned Keith’s untouchable self into this loathsome green monster. “Hey man maybe you should listen to Shiro---”

But Keith is shaking his head and grimacing. “Do you ever shut up Lance? Just ‘cause  _ you _ want to talk all the time doesn’t mean we want to hear! Doesn’t mean you should dump all your thoughts down our throats! Can you for once in your life just  _ stop _ ?”

His muscles are revved up and his jaw hurts from clenching it. But when he moves his head to give Lance a glare to match his words, his heart almost stops.

Lance looks like he’s been punched in the stomach, hard.

Mouth hanging open, Lance’s wide eyes are hurt, gleaming with unshed tears. His chin and bottom lip tremble slightly and then Lance presses his lips together, looking like he’s trying to contain himself for their sakes. And for that, Keith wants to hurt himself.

He wants to take everything back but he only stands numbly.

Keith reaches a hand out towards him. “I didn’t mean,” his words fall flat to his ears. He doesn’t know how to unmake this mess.

“Maybe you should leave,” Hunk suggests, wrapping a large arm around Lance’s shoulders. Keith’s blood spikes. He can’t help it, even though he knows these feelings are what ruined everything, he can’t help wanting that arm off Lance’s shoulder. “Take a breather.”

“No it’s fine,” Lance speaks up. Keith is amazed by how quickly his eyes have dried, though he wishes he wasn’t the target of such an icy cold stare. “If he wants to spew bullshit, let him. He’ll tire out. Another one of Keith’s tantrum, that’s all this is. It’s like he hasn’t grown out of grade school.”

“Grade school,” Keith echoes, wishing he could stop his own mouth. But Hunk’s arm is still hanging around Lance’s shoulder and he can’t think straight at all. “At least I passed that one, didn’t I? How did you even manage to get into the Garrison, being such an idiot?” 

He doesn’t miss the way Lance’s eyes flash, jaw clenches. It feels like justice, in a sick way. “Made it though, didn’t I? Same as you.”

“You didn’t deserve it.” Keith regrets the second it’s out of his mouth.

The room is silent for a few moments. Everyone is still, as Lance’s face transforms through a range of expressions, all too quick for Keith to attempt to decipher. But then his teeth are bared, eyes like bullets, face settling in a rage that Keith knows all too well. 

“YOU’RE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!”  When Lance charges at him, they both go down in a flurry of movements. The force of Lance’s fury surprises him, and he’s trying to keep those hands from clawing his face. 

“What the hell did I even---do to you?!” Lance pants, knocking his elbow into Keith’s jaw. Groaning, Keith tries to trap Lance’s swinging arms but he’s moving them too fast. He thinks Hunk’s shouting something but he’s too busy dodging Lance’s clumsy punches to listen. He’s trying to catch a good grip on the other’s wrists, but Lance is unexpectedly fast. His heart quickens.

He hates that a part of him feels excited to have Lance’s attention so focused on him. Even though he dislikes himself for it, something inside him swells pleasantly at having caused such a visceral reaction from the other boy. Though he wishes it wasn’t like this, a part of him enjoys this closeness.

God, he’s so sick.

Another elbow to his face disorients him, and he tries to knee Lance’s stomach, succeeding when he hears Lance suck in a breath, momentarily disabled. Heaving, Keith manages to catch Lance’s wrist and uses all his strength to pull it down, quickly grabbing the other and pinning them to the floor as he pushes his legs to the right to roll them over, bringing the other boy onto his back below him.

What Keith hates most of all is that seeing Lance underneath him like that, sweat glistening on his face and neck, shirt stuck to his skin, huffing out angry breaths. It makes him want to press their lips together and lick inside his mouth.

But he can’t do any of that.

The fight goes out of him as he stares at Lance, whose chest is heaving. He’s scowling, and he must have bitten his lip at some point because it’s bleeding. All Keith does is make the people he cares about suffer.

His head is reeling. He wishes he could stay in the moment, but his words rear back at him. The fact that he’s caused an emotional wound to this physical one hits Keith in the gut. Of course Lance would hate him even more than he does now after this.

“Keith,” Lance finally says. “Get off me.”

Keith doesn’t move.

“You won, okay?” Lance looks miserable. He tries to move his wrists again, but they’re still pinned down by Keith’s grip. “Now let me go.”

He hears Shiro saying something, and there’s a hand pulling at his shoulder. He ignores it, focusing on the way the skin under Lance’s eyes are reddening. He’s blinking frequently, but his eyes only become more watery.

Keith stomach curls when he realizes what’s happening. “Don’t cry Lance,” he says desperately. 

“I’m not crying, you dick!” Lance seems to be ignoring the tears on his face. “Hunk, get him off!”

And then there’s large arms pulling him away from Lance, who immediately wipes at his face. Keith wants to make a comment about it, but Hunk is dragging him away.

“Oh jeez Keith,” Hunk is saying, but Keith doesn’t want to talk to him. “Was that really necessary?”

Keith doesn’t respond, keeping his gaze ahead of them.

Lance is resolutely refusing to look at Shiro, who’s trying to talk to him. He doesn’t look as miserable anymore, but rather more embarrassed. His ears are turning red, but when he does finally face Shiro, he looks better.

And that makes Keith feel worse. He hates the part of himself that seems to be obsessed with Lance. Lance is his own person. He is allowed to do whatever he wants. He can touch and be touched by whoever he wants. Keith has no claim on him, nor should he.

Hunk is giving him a look he can’t interpret. He has a headache and is glad Hunk isn’t lecturing him like he knows Shiro would.

“I didn’t mean to, okay,” he says stiffly. He wants to be in his room. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”

Hunk lets out a sigh. He glances at the exit as if he wishes he could go there, but instead taps his foot. “I know. Your feelings got away from you. But next time, practice more restraint, alright?”

Keith nods. He doesn’t mention how he feels like he’s always practicing restraint nowadays. He doesn’t want Hunk to think more badly of him. He needs to keep his problems to himself.

Shiro is touching Lance’s shoulder now, and Keith is biting his tongue. Hunk looks curiously at him. “What made you so um, angry in the first place?”

Keith eyes Hunk, and wonders how much he would judge him on the truth. Hunk seems the most compassionate of all the Paladins, but at times he seems as distrustful as Keith. But maybe Hunk could offer a solution of sorts.

Keith worries his lip. Shiro says something that causes Lance to snicker. 

Shiro meets his gaze for a second, and it takes effort on Keith’s part to prevent his face from flaring red.

“Nothing made me angry,” he tells Hunk. “I wasn’t angry.”

Hunk raises an unimpressed eyebrow and lets out a snort. “Yeah, no. Even if I didn’t witness that whole fit, I still wouldn’t believe that, not in a thousand years.”

Keith purses his lips, turns on his heel. “Believe what you want. If anyone asks, I’m in the---”

“Training room,” Hunk supplies. “Yeah yeah I could’ve guessed.”

Keith gives him a suspicious look, before shrugging it off and moving toward the exit. 

“By the way, Keith?” Hunk’s voice halts him. “Does running away from your problems really help? You’d think it was the prime treatment from how frequent you do it.” 

Keith scowls, but doesn’t respond, opting to keep moving forward.

Lance’s laugh stops ringing in his ears when he’s in the midst of exchanging blows with the metallic bot on the fighting arena. 

He imagines his opponent as a green monster with his face and black gloves. He lands a strong punch to its head and the thing collapses into an array of metal. He advances to the next level. The hollow feeling in his throat doesn’t lessen one bit.

 

\---

 

When Keith drags his palms down the unbelievably soft skin of Lance’s belly, Lance lets out little staccato sighs that do something to Keith’s heart.

Lance is underneath him on his bed. His fingers are curling into the blankets as his back arches up slightly. And Keith’s hand’s suddenly pressing there, helping him stretch out further, placing a pillow by the small of his back so he can angle his hips just so---

The taste of Lance’s red lips is unexpectedly sweet. He’s so warm and his strong thighs are clenching around Keith. Lance cries out his name, and Keith is dying. He’s dying because Lance is so warm and tight, and he wants to be even  _ closer _ .

Lance is shifting his hips, grinding back and forth slowly and Keith is trying to tell him to needs to stop but words are beyond him. Then Lance rolls his hips up, forcing Keith in deeper and he’s groaning, eyes rolling back in his head as he pushes his forehead against Lance’s shoulder. He presses a wet kiss there and gives a shallow thrust of his own, swelling with pride when he hears Lance suck in a breath.

“Keith,” Lance says again. And his long strong legs wrap around him tighter, and then Keith can’t help it. He’s letting go and the brightness behind his eyes flashes as he groans. When he blinks his eyes open, he’s out of breath and disoriented. He reaches for Lance but his fingers only catch air.

Shifting onto his elbows, Keith stares out into his empty room. His pants are wet and when he realizes what’s happened again, he’s filled with a coldness that turns his body into lead. 

Dragging himself off his bed, he walks stiffly towards the bathroom to clean up. The clock tells him there’s a few hours til everyone will be up for breakfast.

He showers before heading out to the arena.

Training seems to be one of the few things that takes his mind off his gross urges.

He scowls as he scratches at his arm. Dreaming about a teammate like that, too? It was disgraceful. 

Lance wasn’t some object he could project all his fantasies on, but it seemed like that was what was happening anyway. He knew from the Garrison that he preferred men, but no one ever had stirred up such vivid dreams in him before. 

Then again, he had never engaged deeper than matters relating to schoolwork with anyone at the Garrison. And before the Garrison was the foster home and the public school system, which he tried not to think about.

Maybe if he got laid, he would be able to stop thinking about the Blue Paladin in this way. 

His body was just reacting obscenely from being sex deprived his whole life. Being in space must be messing up his normal hormonal levels or something.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is forced into situations he's unfamiliar with, but he fares okay.

Keith had taken to walking around the Castle. It made him feel better to patrol the many hallways, familiarize himself with the complex layout of the millennium old castle-ship. He was in the midst of passing by the gaming room when he heard some noises coming from it.

When he entered, he saw that one of the games was running by itself.

Curious, he pushed the OFF button, watching the device power down, and then turned to leave the room. Before he left, he spotted a figure curled up on the couch, which explained the game.

Sighing, Keith moved forward, picking up the blanket from where it had fallen on the ground to drape over the lanky boy evenly.

 _Pop_!

Jumping, Keith spun around toward the source of the noise. The scent of burning was in the air.

Strange.

Breathing through his mouth, Keith headed towards the corner of the room, near the storage closet.

He silently brought out his blade, momentarily glad he had sharpened it earlier. Reaching out a shaky hand, Keith grabbed hold of the cold knob, took a breath, and quickly flung it open, charging in.

Someone shrieked.

A flare of green light.

Then _pain_. Keith’s body shook as an unbearable burning runs up his arm. He thinks he cried out, but he wasn’t sure. The pain consumed everything.

“What the---oh, Keith?” Pidge sounds worried for a moment, then she’s hissing. “What are you doing here?”

“I just. I heard,” Keith catches his breath, grits his teeth. He can barely feel his fingers. “It smelled like burning.”

“Yeah.” The whites of Pidge’s eyes glow in the blackness of the closet. Her glasses reflect the little light there is. “I’m doing something.”

Keith crosses his arms, wanting them to be closer to his chest. His fingers tingled. “In the dead of night?”

“There is no night and day here.” A tired grin overtakes her mouth. “Only artificially simulated sunlight.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at that. He can make out a mess of wires on the ground, pliers, tongs, and not much else. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I could ask you that too,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose.

He frowns at her. “I was patrolling the castle.”

“And for what, exactly, Keith?” She flails her arms unconsciously. “We have particle barriers and encroachment detectors for that. What makes you think roaming the castle with a sword will help? Just admit you couldn’t sleep, either.”

“If I wanted to sleep, I would.” But he didn’t want to dream of Lance like that again. It felt intrusive. Wrong without Lance’s permission. “The castle once turned on us. Didn’t think you’d be so quick to forget.”

“Who forgot,” she growled. He couldn’t see her face, but the force of her glare was undeniable. “I was the one who spent hours checking the interface and implementing a debugging program to prevent any future attacks.”

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Pidge made him nervous sometimes. The memory of her bayard delivering a painful shock to his body was still fresh.

“Anyways,” Keith coughs, deciding to move on. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Not really,” she mutters. He pretends he doesn’t hear and continues his expectant stare.

She fiddles with some tool in her hands. “Just testing out a hypothesis. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” he says.

She makes a noise. “Yeah, I’m not the emotionally repressed one here.”

“What does that mean?” He’s beginning to feel annoyed. He’s just trying to look out for the others. And this is what he gets in return, of course.

When Pidge peers up at him, he gets the sensation that he’s something she would like to dissect. But then she glances away, and the look is gone.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she says, evasive as ever.

But he can’t let it go now. He bites out. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

She huffs. “Alright, fine. It’s just that---You’ve clearly got issues to work out. You explode all the time, okay? It’s obvious you don’t process things in a healthy way.”

Keith is rearing from the news.

“I don’t explode all the time,” he says. “Name one--okay, no, name at least two times that’s happened. Yesterday doesn’t count. I was--” He can’t tell her about Lance, so he changes gears. “Just. No. I don’t, okay? Get that out of your head.”

“Of course you’d say that,” she sighs. “I don’t have time to explain it to you, okay?”

He’s kind of annoyed but let it go. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone to work on the, um.”

Pidge takes the farewell in stride. “Thank you! Now, bye!”

He’s not expecting to be pushed out, but before he knows it, the door shuts in his face.

He stares at it for a few seconds, before knocking softly.

“What is it?” Pidge’s voice sounds exasperated, and it makes him feel bad, but not that much.

“Try to get some sleep after, okay? You get slower during training when you’re sleep deprived. It brings the whole team down.”

“Will do, mom.”

He should probably pester Pidge harder, given her habit of pulling all nighters for projects, but he’s tired and doesn’t really care all that much.

With that, he turns around toward the sleeping figure on the couch. He doesn’t understand how Lance was able to sleep through that, but it explains his inability to show up promptly to emergency midnight drills.

“You’re hopeless,” he mutters, swiping his forehead.

Lance’s mouth is hanging open because he’s a slob, and Keith wishes he didn’t find the patch of dried drool on Lance’s chin endearing.

Cycling through so many expressions during the day, Lance’s face seems like it should be in perpetual motion. The stillness unnerves Keith. It brings out the harsh lines of his chin. He looks more serious, like a soldier.

Keith prefers him laughing.

It must be uncomfortable sleeping like that, Keith thinks. The couch is too small for his lanky body. Just because Lance can fall asleep on any surface doesn’t mean he should, right?

Knowing he won’t change his mind anyways, Keith decides not to fight himself on this and bends down, pulling Lance into his arms. Finding Lance heavier than he thought, Keith moves him so that he’s hanging over Keith’s shoulder instead. Lance sleeps through it without a murmur, and Keith lets out an exhale. He’d rather not try to explain this. Lance hated him enough already.

Keith grips the back of Lance’s thighs with one hand, and begins to move towards the Blue Paladins quarters. He’s trying not to think about how pleasant the scent of cinnamon is, or wonder how the hell Lance managed to get his hands on any kind of perfume here.

He’s almost to his room, when Lance makes a low noise from the back of his throat.

Keith freezes, holding his breath, and Lance shifts in his hold. Then, “Keith?” Lance voice is bleary, wispy like mist or fog. “Why are you holding me?”

“Uh,” Keith tries to remember how words work. The sudden brushing of Lance’s hand against his back jolts him into action. “You fell asleep on the couch? I’m bringing you to your room.”

“Oh.” Lance is quiet for a moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Keith can’t help asking, like an idiot.

“Yeah,” is all Lance adds. Then, “why’d you stop moving?”

“Right.” Keith nods, then realizes Lance can’t see, and starts walking again. If Lance isn’t going to bring up how Keith made him cry the other day, then that’s great. Lance seemed the type not to hold a grudge anyways. He doesn’t get far, before Lance goes tense in his hold again.

“Wait!” Lance exclaims, jolting then smacking Keith’s neck because he’s crazy.

“That hurt,” Keith grumbles. His skin stings. He decides to put Lance down, because that’s not okay. The boy slides off, and wobbles on the floor, before he’s whipping through dramatic hand gestures.

“Oh no, I forgot to--”

“I know,” Keith interrupts. “I saw. I turned it off for you.”

Lance gives him a weird look. “What are you talking about? I’m saying I forgot to get Pidge! I was waiting for her to finish the third circuit of her air skates proto-thing before I brought her to bed. It’s should’ve only taken twenty quintoks, twenty-five at most.”

Keith doesn’t get annoyed that Pidge trusted Lance enough to tell him about her experiments. Even though she was so unnecessarily secretive with him about it.

He’s only a little irritated.

“You’re a little late for that,” he says, instead, taking pleasure in the way Lance’s face falls. “When I last saw Pidge, she was burning something and definitely way past circuitry.”

“Oh no.” Lance’s face pales. “I need to go back.”

Keith pulls him back before he gets far. “No you don’t. I didn’t carry you all the way here for you to go back.”

Lance scowls at him, slapping his hand free. “Then what do you want me to do? I promised Shiro I’d make sure she got more sleep.”

Keith furrows his brows. He didn’t know Lance and Shiro even talked. The last time he checked, Shiro thought Lance was immature and could barely hold in snapping at him. Now why was he entrusting Lance with the caretaking of one of the Paladins?

The question must have been written on his face, because Lance swears at him. “Yes, Shiro trusts me to do that. I’m a big brother, okay? Dealing with teenagers who don’t want to go to bed is basically my middle name.”

Keith can’t help it. He lets out a snort, and Lance’s ears color pink. “I meant I’m highly skilled at it, okay!”

“I’m sure,” Keith says. “I’ll pretend I didn’t just find you asleep, ahem, on the task.”

“I’ll have you know I’m great at it! I doubt you could get Pidge to go to bed by yourself,” he sniffs and waves his arms around. “It’s an incredibly difficult art. One you should leave to the masters.”

He must be goading him. He can’t be this annoying.

Keith crosses his arms. “Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll do it! And I’ll do it faster and more smoothly than you, too.”

Lance is narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think you can beat me?”

“Well, you’re you, for one,” Keith says unthinkingly, but when Lance lets out a gasp, he feels pleased with himself.

“And I’m me,” Keith continues, smiling at the outraged expression forming on Lance’s face.

“And I’m way faster and smoother than you, don’t you know?” He laughs a little at the sputtering Lance does next. The other boy’s face finally settles down to something grim, like he witnessed Keith murder his pet.

“We’ll see about that,” Lance finally says, voice solemn, like a promise. Then his lip twitches up, and it looks like he’s trying to hold back a smile. He blurts, “whoever makes it back first wins round one!”

Then he’s taking off, sprinting back that way they came.

Keith doesn’t hesitate to follow.

\---

Keith really should’ve expected this.

He totally won, but Lance won’t accept the loss.

“No way,” Lance says for the third time. “I was ahead by at least three inches. Lying to yourself isn’t graceful, man.”

“You’re insane,” he says, still heaving from the sprint. “You said the doorway. I got there first!”

“Stop imagining things! I made it to the couch first, which is further too.”

“Because I slowed down after passing the entry!” Keith shouts. “You _know_ I won this round, you just can’t handle losing! Something I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?"

“I swear you make no sense half the time! I’m a _winner_ , Keith! Why on Altea would I be used to losing?”

Keith groans, running a hand over his face. Of all beings in the universe, Keith can’t stop thinking about this fool. “Nevermind. Let’s get on with it. You said I wouldn’t be able to get Pidge out, right? Watch this.”

He steps up to the closet, then stops. What was his plan exactly? He couldn’t forcibly pull Pidge out, she’d throw a fit. He could ask nicely?

Determined, Keith nods to himself and knocks three times. After no response, he glances at Lance, before knocking again, this time more urgently. “Pidge! Open up, it’s Keith.”

“What do you want?” Pidge doesn’t open the door. Which, okay, Keith could deal with.

Deciding he wouldn’t look at Lance until he completed the task, Keith stepped closer to the door. “Can you open the door.”

“No.” Pidge’s voice is flat. “Tell me what you need, then leave.”

Frowning, Keith says, “I just want you to get some sleep.”

There’s an alarming _thud_ and the sound of muffled groaning. “Lance put you up to this, didn’t he? You can tell him that if he doesn’t stop being a prick, I won’t let him test run these.”

“Aw c’mon!” Lance says. “That’s so cold, Pidge!”

“Lance didn’t put me up to this,” Keith says, unsure of whether it was a lie. He was goaded into this, sure, but that wasn’t premeditated, right?

“He totally did. You don’t care about my sleeping habits, Keith. Let’s not lie to each other.”

Stunned, Keith closed his eyes. “I’m coming in, if you don’t open the door in five seconds.”

“Whatever.”

“Five. Four...” Keith is sweating, and doesn’t know how much slower he can say these numbers. “Three... Come on, Pidge.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Two,” he says, reluctantly. “...One. Alright, I’m coming in.”

He tries to force his way in, but the lock holds. He even activates his bayard and attempts to wack at the door, but the metal framing holds. Damn Altean technology.

“Can you stop that? It’s annoying.”

“Pidge!” He breathes. “I’ll stop if you come out and head to bed with us.”

“Okay, okay. I will. Give me five quintoks to finish up this one glitch.”

“Alright,” he says, turning around to give Lance a triumphant smile.

Lance gives him two thumbs up. “Sharp moves, Samurai.”

Keith smiles wider, but then he realizes that must have been sarcasm or something because Lance is doubling over in laughter.

“Oh my, your face,” Lance’s shoulders are shaking. He raises a hand to wipe off tears. “It was perfect.”

Keith has poor taste in men. He knows this.

“Laugh all you want,” he says. “I still won. Again.”

“Sure thing, winner.” Lance smiles, like he knows something Keith doesn’t. Keith wants to wipe that smile off Lance’s face, with his lips.

Instead, he crosses his legs and waits for Pidge to come out.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Two knocks, then, “Pidge? It’s been over ten quintoks. Can you come out?”

“Give me ten more, I swear.”

“Okay, okay,” Keith says, scowling at the way Lance throws his head back to laugh. “Just ten more.”

So they wait ten more quintoks. Then five more.

Keith admits defeat. Lance is grinning brightly as he shoos Keith away from the door. “Watch and learn from the master. Maybe you’ll soak up a thing or two.”

Keith makes a face at him, but he’s curious about what Lance will do.

He’s surprised when the other boy sits down with his back to the door. His confusion continues when Lance opens his mouth, not to address Pidge but launch into a complicated tale about one of his family members, and the hardships they suffered when attempting to design a gimmick for a company that underappreciated them. Keith thought Lance was overdoing it when he described in detail the breakdowns Alina had the days before her deadlines, but he was shocked when the knob turned and Pidge peered out with a frown.

“If you’re trying to scare me into stopping,” she says, “it’s worked. I’m done. I’m heading out.”

Keith gawks as Pidge attempts to brush dust off her makeshift lab coat. She must have been in there for long, because a layer of grime had attached to the fabric.

“How did that work?” Keith grips his head.

Pidge sighs but doesn’t answer. She instead turns her glare on Lance. “You’re bringing me coffee to bed tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Lance winks. “Anything for my favorite gargoyle.”

If she’s offended by the comment, she doesn’t look it. Instead, she hobbles off towards her room without a backwards glance at the pair of them. Keith sticks to Lance’s side when he starts to follow, a few paces behind the Green Paladin.

Crossing his arms and huffing, Keith stares angrily at the wall patterns as they walk.

Lance, of course, can’t keep his mouth shut. “What did I tell you?” He’s crowing. “Not gonna doubt me again, are you, Keith?”

“We’ll see,” Keith grumbles.

“Admit it.” Lance’s mouth is too close to his ear. Keith shivers at the feel of his breath. “I have amazing big brother skills. I’m the best big brother on this castle.”

“You really are,” Keith agrees.

The slip of honesty seems to surprise both of them.

Lance glances ahead to the hall in front of them. They watch as Pidge slides noiselessly into her room, her doors closing behind her. After a long pause, Lance scratches his arm and says, “That’s... right. I am, aren’t I?” But he sounds less certain now.

“You are,” Keith reassures him. But Lance looks less convinced the more Keith opens his mouth. “I mean it, Lance. You’d make a good brother.”

Lance tenses, and when Keith looks at him, he appears unglued, like he’s on the verge of falling down a peak and only his reaching fingers can hold onto his balance.

“But,” Lance struggles to get out. “But I don't. What I mean is.”

Keith doesn’t dare breathe wrong. He doesn’t know what Lance sees in his face, but he hopes its enough. The way Lance’s shoulders dip tell him that he’s doing something right.

And it must be right, because Lance goes on to say, “did you know my little sister is turning nine this year?”

Keith shakes his head. “I didn’t know.”

“March sixth," Lance says, his eyes far away. "My family goes all out for birthdays. There’s so much singing and dancing, my dad makes his special bocaditos, which are like, soft rolls filled with ham, and I compete with Mayte, my older sister, over giving the best gifts, it’s our little tradition.”

Keith doesn’t say anything, but Lance isn’t even looking his way. His face is drawing inwards, like crumpling paper. “Isa took it the hardest when I was leaving for the Garrison. I promised her I’d come back every break. I told her I wouldn’t miss her birthday for the world.”

Lance’s eyes are hardening. “And we don’t even know what day it is back on Earth. We don’t even know what the Garrison told them about our--our absence. They might think I’m dead for all I know.”

This is the first time Keith has seen Lance looking so uncertain. It’s doesn’t suit him. Keith doesn’t know how to offer words of comfort, but for Lance, he tries.

“They’ll understand. Your sister will understand. Maybe not now but when she’s older.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be there to tell her everything,” Lance says, numbly. “She might grow up not knowing--”

“She’ll know,” Keith says, voice firm. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Lance blinks at him. “That’s nice and all. But you can’t promise that either. We don’t know whether we’ll come out of this alive.”

Keith wanted to argue, but his mouth felt dry. Hearing the Blue Paladin like this was uncomfortable, like seeing an animal wearing a different skin.

Lance seems to realize what he said, because his dark eyes widen. He steps back, runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean that, I’m just tired.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say about that. Instead, he nods and tries to swallow down the lump that’s steadily formed in his throat. Lance surprises him when he grabs Keith’s shoulder and squeezes.

“Really,” Lance says. “Ignore that. I’m sure we’ll all get through this together, healthy and whole--maybe with a few cool looking battle scars. But who doesn’t love those?”

 _You don’t have to comfort me_ , Keith wants to say. Instead, he pulls on a teasing smile of his own. He wants to show Lance that he, too, can play this way. “Good luck with collecting them with the healing pods on board.”

Lance frowns. “Do they remove scars?”

At that, Keith’s smile turns more genuine. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Lance’s face becomes alarmed, and he’s ripping off his jacket with ardor, pushing up his sleeves and searching his bare arms for faint white lines. Keith can’t help chuckling. “You’re hopeless.”

“No no no!” Lance cries. “I got that baby when I was fifteen! An impressive story behind it too. You know how hard that combination is to find?”

Keith shakes his head, still smiling. “No, but tell me all about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmaoo how did I go from Keith inflicting pain on Lance to Keith actively trying to comfort him??? Less angst in this chapter, yes. I wanted to establish their relationships more. Unfortunately it can't all be emo all the time. But anguish awkwardness etc all that good stuff will come soon dw


	3. carving holes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more disruptions

Keith didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But when he caught a glimpse of Lance and Hunk on the skydeck, like a magnet an unknown force pulled him towards them.

The two were talking in loud unassuming voices. If they wanted a private conversation, Keith thought perhaps they should have chosen a place that wasn’t near a main passageway. His relationship with Lance was on rocky terms anyway, so if it looked like Lance was going to gossip about him to Hunk, he definitely wanted to be there to hear it. Maybe he could learn if he was doing something wrong and fix it, and maybe that could make Lance more amenable to spending time with him.

He had been so dreadfully lonely in the shack. Spending time with his teammates was new and he learned more about himself with each interaction. He felt stiff and robotic going through the movements of conversation, and he could tell the others noticed.

Hunk’s brows are furrowed, so Keith presses close to listen.

“I just think spending time with someone who doesn’t care about your well being isn’t a good idea,” Hunk is saying. Keith has no idea what he’s talking about, but he agrees. Lance shouldn’t waste his time with people who don’t realize his worth.

“And they say I’m the dramatic one in this duo,” says Lance, waving his arms around before settling them on his hips. “C’mon the guy’s annoying, but like a shoo fly. He couldn’t hurt me if he tried.” 

Who is bothering Lance? Keith frowned as he tried to think of who it could be. Lance was just about friends with everyone on board. Allura was warming up to him now that he no longer flirted with her. Shiro seemed to trust Lance with more responsibilities. Pidge, who had a rebellious streak similar to Keith, only ever listened to Lance at times. Lance could even get the anxious Slav to simmer down and chuckle at a joke or two. Whenever Keith tried to compliment the other boy on this unique ability of his, Lance would give him a weird look and hurry off. He figured compliments made Lance uncomfortable, so he stopped doing that.

“He made you cry, Lance!” 

Oh. The realization made Keith’s stomach tighten painfully. They were talking about him.

Lance splutters before he puffs up like a penguin. “Excuse me for having allergies.”

“Funny, I’ve been friends with you for years but I can count the number of times I’ve heard you sneeze.” Hunk says, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. The touch is casual, and Keith is belatedly surprised when he notices a distinct lack of reaction to that. Usually, when someone touches Lance, Keith feels hair on the back of his neck rise, or he tastes something rotten. But now he feels nothing, just numb, his body a useless bulk of ice.

“I’m serious, hear me out,” Hunk continues, unaware of the effects his words were having on Keith. “Any good friend would be concerned.”

The betrayal stings, slow and raw, worse than any bug bite or electric spark. Keith bites his cheek, the pain a distraction from the gaping hole Hunk hammers into his stomach with every word.

“I know you got my back, big guy.” Lance clasps Hunk’s hand, his lips coiling up. “But there’s bigger things to worry about. I know what I’m doing. You may not know this, but I am an expert in relationships, from romances to rivalries, I know just how to roll them!”

Hunk crosses his arms, brows still furrowed. “I can’t be the only one thinking it. The way he looks at you sometimes. It’s weird. Like, you’re some kind of fruit he wants to eat.”

Lance snickers at that. “I think that’s time for lunch. You’re reading too into it. Besides, if I were food, don’t you think I’d be unhealthy or I don’t know, spicy?”

Hunk covers his face with a large hand. “Please don’t say it.”

“Because I spice up the lives of everyone I meet!” Lance shouts, before bursting into laughter, because he’s ridiculous like that. Even Hunk chuckles, his shoulders relaxing.

Lance’s chortles trickle down and then, “I’m in the mood for empanadas. I miss Cuban food so bad.” His face suddenly lights up. “You know what, I’m pretty sure Coran has a flavoring device out here somewhere. Let’s find it!” Before Keith knows it, Lance is skipping out of the skydeck, Hunk following behind him. Keith barely remembers to flatten himself against the column, holding his breath until they pass. Once they’re around the corner, he sags, feeling cold and heavy, bones like lead.  
___

Keith dreams of Lance again. 

He doesn’t mean to, but Lance is a warm weight on his lap and he’s only human, so Keith grabs fistfuls of his thighs and squeezes, marveling at how taut the muscle is. 

Lance huffs a laugh, and Keith turns. Before he can form a question, Lance is pulling him into a sweet kiss. Keith can’t complain, really, he melts into it like honey. All his senses are buzzing pleasantly. The kisses gradually become more wet, as Keith pushes his tongue through, wanting to taste Lance’s mouth. He tugs Lance closer by the waist, and he loves the way Lance pushes back against him.

When Lance laughs into him, Keith pulls back to ask what’s funny. Lance doesn’t answer, shaking his head, dark eyes twinkling. Head hazy, Keith leans back in, joining their lips together, like a promise. 

Lance is grinning against his mouth, and between every few kisses, he chuckles, and Keith doesn’t know whether to love or hate that. Instead of thinking too much about it, He swallows the noises as they come.

It feels too soon when Lance pulls away again, doubling over in laughter. Maybe he meant to speak, but he can’t form the words, still shaking in silent laughter, face flushed and eyes crinkling. Keith decides he doesn’t really care what the joke is. Knowing Lance, it’s likely inappropriate or vulgar, so he continues to pepper small kisses over the other’s face. 

The giggling is kind of cute, when he thinks about it. But he’s trying not to think. 

“Don’t you want to hear it?” finally slips out of Lance’s lips. Keith draws his eyes up, meeting the other’s gaze. “Of course I do.”

“It’s just funny,” Lance lets out, “that you dream of me.”

Keith stops moving. “Why?”

“Cause I hate you. And you love me,” Lance says. “You’re obsessed, really. Pathetic, but funny.”

Something burns harsh in his chest. Keith reaches to shove Lance off, but his hands propel into empty air. Heaving, he blinks into the darkness of bedchambers. 

It’s been a long time since he’s felt threatened by the vastness of an empty room. He thought he was done feeling like this. He holds control of his fate in the palm of his hand, decisions of life and death sharpened into the edges of his dagger, yet still he trembles like a small child.

“Dammit,” he breathes, gripping his hair. 

___

Keith lags behind the rest of the crew for the first time during training.

He tries to make up for his distractedness with fury, but his movements only grow clumsier.

When his sword finally slices through a gladiator, he grins. Then he notices Lance duck and roll under a gladiator’s legs before shooting at it. The robot deteriorates and Lance whoops. 

“Keith on your left!”

He turns too late, and the air is knocked from his lungs. He heaves on the floor, dodging the bot’s next strike but just barely.

He hears Lance curse. His shoulder’s been nicked, spilling droplets of blood. Keith doesn’t hesitate to charge at the offending robot, slashing it to metal scraps. 

“Hey!” Lance sounds put out. Keith doesn’t want to deal with that, so when he senses a movement to his left, he’s immediately whirling his blade down.

But it’s just Hunk, his eyes large and afraid. 

Keith seizes his weight backwards, so his sword misses.

That was close.

Another bot clatters down a few feet away, and then Shiro’s calling out, “that’s enough. End training sequence.”

He can feel Hunk staring lasers into his head. Keith tears off his gloves, overheated and slightly disoriented. When he closes his eyes, he sees Hunk’s terrified gaze staring back at him. Huffing, he tells himself that Hunk is far from a small defenseless child.

“Nice going, Keith.” Lance snickers, and oh that’s rich.

“Shut up.” He scowls. “How many times have you made us stop because you got winded? I lost count by now.”

“And he’s back, folks!” Lance’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and he’s making no sense as always. “Knew it wouldn’t take long.”

“Are you alright, man?” Hunk asks.

An innocent question, but Keith’s on the defensive, whipping around and snapping. “You should’ve stayed back. It’s your fault for sneaking up on me.”

“What the hell, Keith?” Hunk sounds annoyed, and great because he’s frustrated, blood boiling, and he’s looking for a fight. Why did they stop? 

“You heard me,” he says, shoving at Hunk’s shoulders.

“You’re serious,” Hunk says, voice flat, not budging.

“Keith.” He winces at Shiro’s sharp voice. “Go cool off.”

“I’m fine,” he huffs, pointedly turning away from the rest of the crew.

“Good,” Pidge says, out of nowhere and in his face, tapping at a holo screen. “We should use this break to analyze our moves with my new program then. I’ll start with Keith for obvious reasons. You need to stop glancing at Lance.”

He flushes, and ignores Lance’s outrage. “You doubting my moves, mullet?”

He splutters. “That’s not–”

“You’re moving too fast.” Pidge moves on, unaffected, scrolling through the data. “Try slowing down so you can see who you’re against better, it’ll lessen the chance of you hurting any innocents near you.”

Like you almost did to Hunk, goes unsaid.

Something ugly is bubbling up in his chest, he doesn’t want them to see, but it’s frothing in his throat, swampy and dark.

“That’s bullshit,” he spits out, ignoring their shocked looks. Pidge drags her eyes away from her screen to scowl at him. Good. “I can’t slow down. I don’t know what you’ve calculated but it’s not right. How would it know the feel of a fight?”

Pidge nudges her glasses up her nose, cocks her head. “Because I programmed it that way.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m not taking combat advice from a computer.”

“Why not?” Lance asks, voice light, a hint of laughter there. “Are you mad it’s smarter than you?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but Shiro cuts in, annoyed. “If you’re not going to listen, just leave.”

He can’t believe that they all are turning on him like this.

“Fine!” He pulls his helmet off with a pop and it slams against the wall across the room. Pidge blinks, Hunk’s mouth falls open and Shiro’s jaw is clenched. His eyes flicker to Lance and he immediately regrets it.

The leech has a grin on. Like he planned this.

Something roars in his chest, loud and thick.

“You did this!” Keith shouts. Lance’s face falters and he’s stepping back, palms raised up. Keith sees right through him. “Hey hey don’t–”

He moves to tackle him, but then Hunk’s in the way, blocking him. “Nope. Not today.”

“Get out of my way–”

“You gotta learn to manage these anger issues,” Hunk says, keeping him in place.

“I DON’T HAVE ISSUES!” He’s bucking in his grip, glaring at Lance.

Lance looks oddly concerned, and it’s feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. “Um Keith, buddy?”

“Don’t call me that!” He shouts again, not really knowing why. “Don’t talk to me!”

“Time to go,” Hunk chirps, lifting him up, and no he did not ask for this. “Put me down!”

“What’s wrong with him?” He hears Lance asking, and the fire burning in his chest flares up.

“This is all your fault,” he’s yelling, but Hunk’s carrying him away, and if his face wasn’t red before, it sure was now. Blood’s rushing through his ears, thunderous and heavy in its impact.

He covers his face with his palms. Pidge was right. He had a problem.

When Hunk finally puts him down, far away from the others, he doesn’t remove his hands from his face. It’s so stupid, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge anything right now. He doesn’t want Hunk to see what a bastard he is. He hears a sigh and hopes the other boy will leave already.

There’s the sound of footsteps fading away and Keith lets the tension bleed from his body. He crouches on the carpet, the cross-hatching patterns providing him a distraction from himself. He traces the red ridges with a finger mindlessly.

When he hears footsteps returning, he huffs. “Go away Shiro.”

“Not Shiro.” Hunk’s voice is firm, relentless. “And take this.”

A meal plate enters Keith’s field of view. The dish contains an interesting blend of green and orange goo, sprinkled with what must have been a spice. 

“Uh.” Keith doesn’t know what to say.

“Eat up,” Hunk says. “When was the last time you had food?”

“Are you saying I threw a fit because I was hangry?” Keith pokes the goo. It’s creamy.

Hunk huffs, and picks up the dish to Keith’s discontent. “If you don’t want it–”

“No! Wait!” Keith says, embarrassed. “I–want it. Please.”

“Okay,” is all Hunk says, giving him back the plate. Keith takes it gratefully and practically pours the content down his throat. All the while, Hunk stands there and waits.

After eating most of the meal, Keith feels immensely better. And very mortified of his behavior back in the arena. He doesn’t have to look at Hunk to feel his disapproving look.

“I’m sorry?” He tries. “I don’t know what came over me.”

That’s a lie. He knows exactly what happened. The monster inside him paved a new way to get into his head. These feelings were alien yet familiar. He remembered that it was mostly dormant as a child. But now space was taking his humanity away from him. Bleeding it out from him in rivulets. 

All he would be left with is beast. Or ash, maybe he was burning from the inside and combustion was in order.

“Glad to see you have a conscience,” Hunk responds. “Was kind of worried you didn’t feel remorse back there.”

Keith tries to hold back a glower. “Maybe I don’t, how would you know?”

Hunk sighs again, rubbing his face. “You better stop trying to pick a fight with me. Especially in front of the others. They’re getting worried about you.”

A scoff slips out. “They just don’t want Voltron impacted.”

“Of course they don’t,” Hunk agrees, and it makes Keith’s stomach hurt. “But they also care about you and want to make sure you’re okay.”

He doesn’t want to ask Hunk why he’s being so nice to him. He’s afraid that if he asks him, Hunk will come to his senses and these small acts of kindness will disappear. 

But nothing makes sense. Wasn’t Hunk supposed to hate him? He hurt Keith’s feelings so much the other day. And Keith just can’t pretend it didn’t happen. His skin still stings, he can’t trust his teammate to have his back anymore. How could he ever hope to fix this mess?

“I heard you the other day,” tumbles out of Keith’s mouth, because if there’s anything he’s learned, it’s that he’s an idiot. “When you were talking to Lance.”

Hunk chuckles. “I talk to Lance all the time. You’re gonna have to go into specifics here.”

“Um.” Keith screws his eyes shut. “It was when you told Lance to watch out for me.”

“Oh,” is all Hunk says. Keith waits, but the other boy just shrugs. 

“I can’t say I didn’t mean it.”

Keith can’t hide the sting that causes. It seems all Keith’s skin would show burn marks and snake bites these days. He was always itching.

Hunk seems to realize something, because a flicker of hesitation crosses over his face. “Well, you know how you are, Keith.”

“No,” Keith says. “I don’t. Why don’t you tell me.”

Hunk raises his palms up. “This is what I mean. You’re irritable. And you take it out on Lance the worst.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really,” Hunk says. “You just screamed at him back there, saying your explosion was because of him.”

“Yeah, well.” He stops, considering. “It kind of was.”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

Keith doesn’t respond.

Hunk stares at him unflinchingly, and he realizes he can’t get out of this one.

“I might,” he says, “have a thing for him?”

Of all the reactions that Keith was expecting, Hunk bursting out laughing was not one of them. He shoves his fists into his pockets. How much embarrassment could someone take in one day?

“Wow, you’re not kidding,” Hunk coughs.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Yeah...” Hunk stares at the ceiling, before meeting his gaze. “I don’t think that’s true. Not that I don’t believe you. I’m sure you think that you’re into him. But you’re probably mislabeling your feelings. It could be resentment? Envy? Admiration?”

“I know what I feel,” Keith says, suddenly tired. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Hunk lets out a sigh the size of a boulder. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Tell me what to do,” he hisses. “You’re the one that made me open up. I bet you know how to best handle this.”

“Fine, calm down,” Hunk says, gesturing widely before folding his arms behind him. “Let me think of something.”

He nods, dutifully and hopes the other boy will find him a way out of this one. Keith zones out as a couple minutes drag by. He wonders if the others continued training without him. 

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” Hunk finally says, snapping Keith’s attention back onto him. “You’re going to finish the meal I got for you. Then you’re going to put it away because those plates aren’t replaceable. After that’s done. You’re going to shower, because you reek. Not just of sweat. But misery. It’s hanging off you like a cloud. A big, dark weeping cloud.”

“I get the picture,” he grinds out.

“Alright, just making sure. After a long shower, you’re going to apologize to Pidge for dismissing her combat program. She worked hard on that, and its advice has improved our fighting skills.”

Keith winces and nods. “Right.”

“Then you’re going to apologize to Shiro for being disrespectful. That’s an easy one, Shiro already favors you enough as it is.”

Keith doesn’t think so, but he doesn’t challenge Hunk on it. “What about Lance?”

Hunk gives him an unreadable look. “What about him? Just leave him alone for a while, and he’ll come around. He always does.”

“You don’t think I should talk to him about this?”

Hunk laughs. “God, no. It won’t be good. Trust me.”

Keith frowns, but doesn’t argue.

He thanks Hunk before he leaves. Hunk looks surprised but then he gives Keith a tired smile. “Just make sure you do what I told you.”

Then he’s gone.

Keith peers down at his bowl. He’s still hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh tell me what u think?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man Keith is in such denial. It's really funny writing this.


End file.
